


Bear Traps

by writingandchocolatemilk



Series: GiriPan Oneshots [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Alternate Universe - Human, Alternate Universe - Saytr, Giripan - Freeform, Heracles Karpusi, Honda Kiku - Freeform, Kiku Honda - Freeform, M/M, Requests
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-01-18
Updated: 2015-01-18
Packaged: 2018-03-08 01:27:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 753
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3190685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writingandchocolatemilk/pseuds/writingandchocolatemilk
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Where are you taking me?”</p><p>Heracles froze at the sound of the voice. It was soft, but powerful. If he hadn’t been chained to the ground, no doubt he would have gored Heracles. But, damn, those antlers. They would fetch a mighty price on the markets.</p><p>“It doesn’t really matter,” Heracles murmured, crouching down just out of reach of the satyr. “You probably know.”</p><p>“I’m Kiku,” the satyr said next, shifting away and clicking his hooves together; strange, they usually weren’t clothed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bear Traps

A good lay—that’s what Heracles needed. Whenever he was out of funk, a good romp in the sheets always cleared his head. But as he sat quietly underneath a tarp, he wondered if that would really help. It wasn’t so much a foul mood as, well, career choice.

What would his mother had said? Probably lectured Heracles on the nature of human thought and empathy. It didn’t pay the bills, though.

It wasn’t bad, really. Sure, while sitting hours in dark, musty forests wasn’t exactly dream job material, it gave Heracles plenty of time to think. And they didn’t struggle too much when he tied them up—they were usually out like a light by the time Heracles grappled them into the sack.

Something cracked.

Heracles’ finger tightened slightly on the trigger of his gun, and he held his breath. When there was no other movement, he relaxed.

He was trying a new trap this time—something net-based that sleazy man with the mask pawned off to him. It was “more humane” than bear traps, and something about the wording made Heracles exchange his very expensive traps for the flimsy rope.

Oh, there goes one.

Heracles hadn’t even seen the satyr wander into the trap. Still, there he struggle, pulling wildly at the rope that dug into his leg. Maybe he was one that could talk—those were better sometimes. Once, Heracles had caught one that knew every swear under the sun.

“The more you pull, the deeper it cuts.”

Shit, it was a smart one. The satyr’s dark eyes flicker to Heracles position, and he slowly released the rope and dragged himself closer to the pike. Heracles shrugged off the tarp and walked down to the satyr, hoping he wouldn’t lunge.

Heracles almost wished he did. Karma, as his mother would have said. Universal recompense.

“Where are you taking me?”

Heracles froze at the sound of the voice. It was soft, but powerful. If he hadn’t been chained to the ground, no doubt he would have gored Heracles. But, damn, those antlers. They would fetch a mighty price on the markets.

“It doesn’t really matter,” Heracles murmured, crouching down just out of reach of the satyr. “You probably know.”

“I’m Kiku,” the satyr said next, shifting away and clicking his hooves together; strange, they usually weren’t clothed.

“Heracles,” he murmured, eyes focused on the rope. “I’m going to shoot you with this. It’s going to put you to sleep, and—“

Kiku. What an interesting name. Heracles had a cat once with that name; it was a terrible thing, bit and clawed constantly, even when left alone. The name didn’t sound native—and, looking now, this satyr’s antlers were too curly and thin. Did satyrs migrate?

“Do satyrs migrate?” Heracles asked.

Kiku jumped slightly, tilting his head. “Why should I tell you? You are going to bring me to be slaughtered.”

God, that wording. Heracles didn’t even realize he had cut the rope until he saw the back of Kiku’s antlers disappearing into the forest. Well, that was four hours of waiting wasted. Maybe not—as Heracles’ mother would have said, four hours put toward something _else_ of good use.

Of course, Kiku was now going around, freeing the other satyrs that were ensnared in the rope traps. It took three weeks of not a single satyr that Heracles finally switched back to the bear traps. And, lo and behold, who should be caught but Kiku.

He was a little more panicked now, clawing at his leg and glancing around him nervously. The bone was shattered of course, but Heracles still hoped the clever satyr could figure a way out of it.

“Humane,” Kiku said loudly, looking over his shoulder to where Heracles was hiding. “This in no way feels cruel or unusual.”

Heracles sighed and tore off his tarp. That nagging feeling was back—he wanted a lay. He hadn’t wanted one all month, and then as soon as this stupid satyr wanders into the bear trap, it’s back. Heracles crouched down by Kiku, sighing.

“I don’t control the market, I simply provide.”

“Does it hurt?”

Heracles looked past Kiku. “Dying?”

Kiku let out a small laugh. “Doing this?”

The doctor was very confused when Heracles brought the broken and bleeding satyr to him. Heracles ignored the questions, insisting that the leg be set and cast. It was odd to see a hoof sticking out of the other end instead of a foot.

Heracles should have stuck with the bear traps.

**Author's Note:**

>  **From anonymous prompt:** If this isn't too off the wall for you, could I please have a giripan saytr au? Like someone has cute little horns or even really cool antlers, I just think it would be like a really cool fantasy or something?
> 
>  
> 
> [Look, this is a satyr](https://www.google.com/search?q=satyr&espv=2&biw=1366&bih=667&source=lnms&tbm=isch&sa=X&ei=LExUVMSyGpbIsATMgYL4DA&ved=0CAYQ_AUoAQ#tbm=isch&q=satyr&imgdii=_)


End file.
